


wait (just a minute mr postman)

by fangirl_squee



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, and they were housemates (oh my god they were housemates), background lem/fero/emmanuel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-19 21:21:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20216470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirl_squee/pseuds/fangirl_squee
Summary: When you miss someone, you should write them a letter. When you write a letter, you should probably send it.





	wait (just a minute mr postman)

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to maddie, a constant source of inspiration for aus such as this

Arrell slammed his fist against Fero’s door. There was no use knocking politely, Fero could not have possibly heard it over his music. Normally, Fero chose to blare his awful music during the day, where at least Arrell could leave and go study in the library. Lately, the music had been played at all hours.

Arrell kept pounding on the door until it finally opened, the music blasting even louder into the hall. 

"Turn your music down!" said Arrell, struggling to make himself heard over the music. 

"What?" said Fero, "Sorry I can't hear you!"

Arrell made a frustrated sound. "Turn the music down or I  _ will!  _ Permanently!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, okay, jeez," said Fero, "Hold on."

He pulled out his phone, fiddling with it for a moment before the volume lowered. It was still louder than Arrell would have liked, but it was at least low enough that he probably wouldn't be able to hear it with both of their doors closed. 

"There," said Fero, "is  _ that  _ okay?"

"It's acceptable," said Arrell, "if you  _ have  _ to keep listening to  _ that. _ "

"Hey! Just because you only listen to musicals-"

"I do  _ not. _ "

"Sure you do!"

"Opera," said Arrell, struggling to keep a civil tone, "is  _ not  _ the same as a  _ musical _ ."

Fero shrugged. "If you say so." He paused. "So, is that all?"

"Yes," said Arrell, turning away, "Please try to keep the music  _ down  _ tonight, I'm studying."

"When are you not," said Fero from behind him.

As much as he would have found it extremely cathartic to do so, Arrell did not slam his bedroom door closed. He picked up his own phone as he sat down, opening a message to Alyosha before he thought better of it. 

It was probably inappropriate to vent to him about something the day after their break up. 

He scrolled up and down his short contacts list for a moment before he set his phone aside and focused back onto his laptop in front of him. He should at least  _ try  _ to get some more work down before the volume of Fero's music crept back up.

It would be good, he told himself as he pulled his gaze away from his phone, to be able to work with no distractions for once.

  
  


Fero made dinner the next night. It was possible the meal was some kind of mea culpa for the week of extremely loud music. Fero wasn’t usually one for cooking, at least in their kitchen. He mostly seemed to cook at his friend Lem’s house and bring the leftovers back home with him. It was particularly odd to have him at home on a Wednesday night. In the few months they’re been house sharing, Wednesday was a day that Fero was predictably out of the house.

“So,” said Fero, after they’d been cooking in silence for a few minutes, “is Alyosha coming over? Like, should I leave some for him?”

"No," said Arrell, "We- he's busy."

He swallowed, turning away to sweep the carrot skins into the bin. It was none of Fero's business, anyway. 

"Okay," said Fero, "busy with what?"

"Work, I don't know. Why are you here anyway?"

"I live here," snapped Fero.

"I-" Arrell let out a breath. "Look, it's just that you're normally not here Wednesday nights. I thought you and your friend had a standing...  _ hang out  _ night."

Fero looked down at the stir fry, fiddling with the spoon more than he was actually stirring with it. "We- he started dating someone. I figured he could use the night for that instead."

"I see, " said Arrell slowly.

"We kind of had this big argument about it, or whatever," said Fero. He shrugged. "Guess you'll just have to get used to me being around a lot more."

Arrell thought longingly of the quiet Wednesday nights he had had to himself. 

"Maybe you should talk to him about it," Arrell offered slowly "perhaps the situation isn't as bad as you think."

Fero made a face. "I dunno. His boyfriend's really cute, if I was dating him, I wouldn't want someone hanging around when I could, like, be making out with him. And if I was dating Lem-" he broke off, the back of his neck flushing pink. "Whatever. I figure they probably want the alone time."

"This boyfriend-"

"Emmanuel," said Fero. 

"Yes," said Arrell, "does he like you?"

Fero made a face. "I dunno. He laughs at my jokes, more than Lem does, sometimes."

Alyosha's face swam to Arrell's mind, laughing at him as he put a hand on Arrell's arm, the fondness with which he would pull Arrell close. Arrell swallowed. 

"Well. There you go," said Arrell. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind you being there."

Fero tilted his head to one side, squinting down at the stir fry. "Maybe."

"You should talk to them," said Arrell. 

Fero looked towards him. “Both of them?”

“Of course,” said Arrell, putting as much confidence as he could into his words, “I don’t see why you couldn’t talk to both of them about the three of you hanging out.”

“The three of us,” said Fero slowly, “Huh.”

Arrell nodded, feeling much more positive. He could see his quiet nights alone back within reach after all. 

  
  


The problem with quiet nights alone, of course, was that it left him far too much time to think. Alyosha used to tell him that-

Arrell made an annoyed sound, flinging the book aside. It was so frustrating. They had broken up, that was supposed to give him  _ more  _ time to focus on his studies not… not… give himself over completely to thoughts of Alyosha. 

He couldn’t even enjoy the quiet of Fero’s absence. He reached for his phone, flicking to Fero’s last message.

_ b home 2morrow, lem+emmanuel say 2 enjoy the quiet + 2 say ty 4 ur advice _

A whole night and morning to work in peace. Finally.

He glanced back down at his phone to look at the time. Alyosha would be making his  _ one last cup of tea before bed _ about now _ ,  _ lingering in the kitchen, probably being dragged into a conversation with Rosana and her idiot boyfriend, or- Arrell sighed. Not dragged. Whenever Alyosha spoke of them it was with warmth. He spoke of everyone like that, except… 

That tone had been missing, the last time they spoke. 

He hadn't so much as raised his voice, only looked resigned as he collected his things from Arrell's room. 

"I always suspected I would come in second place," he'd said, which had been-

It just simply wasn't true, of course. Alyosha had to know that. He'd gotten out his phone half a dozen times to text Alyosha, or call, because surely Alyosha had to know how much he… how much he still… 

It was difficult, to give it voice, and to text it felt too small. Arrell eyed the notepad. He had always felt that his thoughts came more easily to him when he wrote them out on paper. 

Alyosha had teased him about it, a warmth to even that. 

Arrell closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. He opened them again, and began to write. He let the words pour forth from him, every moment he had thought of Alyosha since their break up and every time before then, the way Alyosha’s voice was a welcome sound in an otherwise empty room, the way they had fit together in sleep, the way the curve of Alyosha’s smile felt like home.

It was very late when he finished, scrawling Alyosha's name and address on the front of the envelope and leaving it on the table as he stumbled to bed. 

He wouldn't send it, obviously. It was catharsis, that was all. Now perhaps he could finally get past whatever it was that had captured his thoughts.

  
  


It was almost noon by the time he woke up, shaken from sleep by the clattering of pots and pans and Fero singing to himself. He made his way to the kitchen, following the racket Fero was making.

"Hello!" said Fero cheerfully, "I'm making French toast, if you want some? Emmanuel gave me some of the bread he took home from the bakery he works at."

"I-" Arrell's stomach growled. "Yes."

He sat down where he had been seated the night before, half-heartedly straightening the pile of his books and papers and watching Fero flit around the kitchen, still feeling only half awake. Fero slid a coffee in front of him, and Arrell grunted something that might have been a thank you. 

Fero laughed. "You look like you need it."

"Mm," said Arrell. He took a gulp, pleased that it was as scorching hot as he liked coffee to be. 

He eyed Fero, who had moved on to humming to himself as he flipped the toast in the pan. 

"I take it that you spoke to your friend about hanging out with his boyfriend."

The back of Fero's neck flushed, his hand fiddling with the collar of his t-shirt. "Uh. Yeah. We- we're cool now, for like, hanging out together, or whatever. So I'll be out of your hair again."

"Good," said Arrell. 

Fero laughed, bright and overly loud, although the coffee was certainly helping to make that more bearable. Arrell moved the books in front of him aside, making room on the table for the food, then frowned, looking down at them. He felt like something was missing, what was- 

The letter. 

He lifted the books. No letter. He looked on the floor. No letter. He searched through his pockets. No letter. 

Fero raised his eyebrows at him as he set the plate of French toast in front of Arrell.

"There was a note here, a letter, when I went to bed," said Arrell, careful to keep his voice steady, "Did you see it?"

"Oh, yeah," said Fero, "I had to go out to get eggs for the French toast, so I mailed it on my way."

"You… what?" said Arrell faintly. 

"Don't worry about it," said Fero, "stamps are only like a dollar or whatever."

"You  _ mailed  _ my  _ letter _ ?"

"Yeah, I mailed it," said Fero, "that's kind of what you do with letter?"

"Why are you  _ always  _ touching my things!" said Arrell.

He stood up, the chair falling backwards with a clatter as he rushed from the room. The mailbox Fero would have used was on the way to the store, he'd just wait there and then tell the post officer or whoever what happened when they came to collect the mail, that was it, he could still stop this. 

"You know what!" yelled Fero behind him, "You  _ do  _ owe me for the stamp!"

Arrell slammed the door on his way out.

  
  


He waited by the mailbox for  _ hours _ , slowly making his way back home only after darkness fell. He scowled at Fero’s closed bedroom door as he passed, frown deepening as he heard Fero’s laugh.

Arrell sat on his bed, turning his phone over in his hands. The letter was undoubtedly on its way to Alyosha and would most likely reach him tomorrow. He could… he could call the city post office and ask them to destroy the letter. He could wait by Alyosha’s house until the mail was delivered. He could text Alyosha and tell him that Fero sent something as a prank. Yes, that seemed plausible.

He opened a message to Alyosha. He could see Alyosha’s last text, a mundane message about being home late, reminding Arrell to be sure to eat something for dinner.

Arrell swallowed hard, closing the message. No, he couldn’t text Alyosha, it was too… he couldn’t.

He flopped backwards on his bed, his phone resting on his chest, listening to the muted sound of Fero’s laughter from across the hall until he fell asleep.

  
  


He awoke to Fero banging on his door. Arrell pulled the door open, glaring down at him.

“What?”

“Someone’s at the door for you.”

“Well I can’t think of anyone I particularly  _ want _ to see,” said Arrell, “So tell them to go away.”

Fero raised his eyebrows but turned back towards the front door. “Okay.”

Arrell leant against his door, listening to make sure Fero was actually doing what he asked.

“Sorry,” said Fero, voice slightly muffled, “He said he doesn’t want to see anyone, he’s been in a shitty mood all week so I wouldn’t take it personally.”

“I think I might have to.”

Arrell felt as though his heart stopped.

Alyosha.

Alyosha was at the front door.

He stumbled over his feet as he moved to the front door, pushing Fero aside.

“Hey!”

Arrell ignored him. “Alyosha?”

Alyosha tucked a strand of hair behind his ear and Arrell’s fingers twitched, wanting to touch.

“Hi,” said Alyosha, “I… are you okay?”

Arrell ran a hand through his hair, hoping he didn’t look as rough as he felt. “I’m fine I was just… I was working.”

“He was asleep,” said Fero helpfully.

Arrell glared at him, expression fading as he caught sight of Alyosha’s smile. He cleared his throat.

“Yes, well.” He cleared his throat again. “Can I… is there something you- I didn’t expect to see you.”

“I didn’t expect to be here,” said Alyosha, “but then I got your letter.”

Arrell’s eyes fell to the paper in Alyosha’s hand, his own scrawling writing stark on the page. His stomach sank, twisting, at the memory of all his foolish, half-formed thoughts written down on paper.

“I… Alyosha, I can explain-”

Alyosha stepped forward. “You already have, I- oh, Arrell why didn’t you just say all of this in the first place?”

“I- you know I always find it easier to write things down,” said Arrell.

Alyosha laughed, moving closer still. “I do remember that. But, perhaps, in the future, you might say what you mean.”

He leant forward to kiss Arrell. It wasn’t the best kiss, Arrell couldn’t move for the first few moments of it, his body more concerned with pulling Alyosha close to him than with kissing him back properly. Arrell wouldn’t have traded a single moment of it.

Alyosha leaned back, touching his fingers lightly to Arrell’s face. Arrell let out a shaky breath, not quite trusting himself to speak.

“I would like to come in,” said Alyosha, “if that’s alright? I know you always have so much to do.”

“I have nothing more pressing than you,” Arrell managed to say.

Alyosha kissed him again.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi: mariusperkins on most places


End file.
